I originally thought I was 3rd from the
right on the first photo, but was doubtful. I have found another
photo of me on my own (2nd photo) and am now convinced it is not me. It
might be Keith Swetman and, now you have mentioned Robert Attoe, I think
he is the middle one of the three with Jim Douglas on the end. I am at
the far left with my hands up beside my head (I recognise the woolly hat
and big socks both of which I still have, sad or what?).

I think Miss Baxter is the lady to the
right with glasses. If I remember correctly she wasn't a natural athlete
and only did the first day. Mr Ian Stockwell is of course the tall chap
in the middle.

An account from the 1962 College
Magazine:

At San Michel we boarded one
of the famous mountain buses packed with many other potential skiers, and
with them we had our first experience of zigzagging along the mountain
roads until we had our first sight of the beauties of Valloire. All
the other people in our hotel seemed to be French - a golden opportunity
for the French students. After rest, nourishment - generally the food was
good, and the crisp French bread, the chips and the gruyere cheese were
especially popular. The first afternoon was spent collecting blankets,
ski-boots, stick - and the lethal skis.

We lost our interpreter the
following morning, when Mr. Williams joined an advanced group and Miss
Baxter took on the exasperating job, thus earning our gratitude. The
instructor assigned to our group captivated us, and had soon been given
the nom-de-guerre of "our little gnome." First experiences with skis
are always frustrating to you and amusing to others, and we played to
rule. The boys soon made good progress, and when we moved from the valley
floor to the higher slopes their proficiency had enabled them to assume a
practised air. The crunch and song of ski blades was already familiar.
Most evenings were filled by lectures or films given by the instructors,
and we afterwards slept soundly until the new day. On the Sunday morning
the so-called rest period was spent in Valloire.

The holiday closed with a
competition, won by Mr. Stockwell, who completed the course in 40 seconds.
Another member of the party was less speedy, taking 209 seconds, thus
earning the title of "Mr. 209." Mr. Stockwell was presented with a
cup from which we duly celebrated. The return journey was made
interesting for all of us, and too interesting for some, by a very choppy
crossing to Folkestone, and we were greeted by English weather after our
holiday of sun, snow and comradeship.

A sincere thank you to Mr.
Williams and all the other staff for their organisation and the way in
which they imbued the trip with a really happy spirit, which never
flagged. Now most of us have only one motto - here's to the next time.